A Bon Jovi Christmas: 2008

Immediately after I was let go from my sales job, I was rehired by a completely different division within our parent company. I was told that in order for me to get this position, they were actually letting someone else go. This was unfortunate but I needed beer money and wasn’t about to turn down a job based on principle, and besides, my moral compass has been out of whack for some time now. I felt as if I had been given a second chance and knew right away I’d be doing things much differently. My days of sending e-cards and surfing the web for deals on Flat screen TV’s from my work computer were over. If I was going to be taken seriously I had to step up my game considerably, and that included getting eyeglasses. I’ve had 20/20 vision all my life and have always felt that my lack of eyeglasses hindered my intelligence. Being the company sex symbol was all well and good, but if I could combine my rugged good looks and obvious charisma with a facade of intellectualism, there would be no telling how far I could go. I also began to reinvestigate the possibility of buying a vest but with things being what they were with the economy, this was no time for excess spending, and I determined getting in incredible shape would be enough. But before I began a rigorous fitness regime filled with creatine and 6 mile runs, I thought a celebration was in order. My friend Sasha’s band happened to be in town that night and everyone who had been laid off was going. The concert started at 10 so to keep up with my schedule I started drinking at my apartment at 7, and had a mild buzz going by the time I arrived at the bar to to see the show. I was giddy, not only did I have a new job to celebrate, but I was also given 2 ½ weeks off paid until I started; tonight was clearly a night to get drunk and I headed straight for the bar. I was pleased to see the bartender was a high school acquaintance. I was surprised to see him bartending considering his full time job was actually the same position I’d just been hired for. “Steve” I yelled ecstatically as if he was my long lost Siamese twin, “How are you man!? Guess what, I actually just got hired to do the same job you do. We’re going to be working together, isn’t that great!?” He looked confused for a second, and then nodded and made the most ridiculous fake smile I’d ever seen. “Um, I guess I’ll just take a Corona” I said changing the topic. He didn’t seem to be overly jazzed about working with me but that wasn’t about to stop me from enjoying myself. About a week later while talking with one of my new coworkers on the phone, it came out that Steve had actually been the person fired so that I could have the job. Fantastic. Not only had I blissfully told a man I’d taken his job right before the holidays, I then proceeded to order a beer from him and tip him a dollar. By the time I started the job every one of my new coworkers had heard about my run in with Steve and thought it was hilarious. Normally I’d take pride in being the center of attention, but this did not bode well for my efforts to paint myself as professional. On top of that, I hadn’t remembered to buy my fake eyeglasses beforehand, and telling everyone I met I was wearing contacts didn’t seem to have the same intellectual effect. I made it s point to buckle down and work incessantly from 9 to 5:30 everyday and always be wearing a winning smile. I was amazed at how well my strategy working, and couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it earlier. My life was just like Michael J. Fox in “The Secret of My Success” and nothing could stand in my way. This false sense of security would be my downfall.
In spite of the crumbling world economy and devastating cutbacks, our company made it a point to have not one, but two non denominational holiday parties. The first was a tame get together for friends and family in the company’s main building. The second party was a staff only Masquerade ball to be set in a downtown club. I sensed that debauchery was afoot but in my new, professional role I viewed myself more as the high brow critic than the person being judged. I’d show up in a crisp tuxedo with slicked back hair and Phantom of the Opera mask and nurse the same brandy all night long, casually exchanging saucy banter with the female executives. “Oh Shaun, you’re perfectly sinful!” they’d laugh, “We simply must set up a lunch at Dante next week to discuss your future with the company.” I was on a fast track to riches and glory, until I got the better of myself. The day of the Holiday Masquerade Ball my division of the company held its Secret Santa gift exchange. According to my new success plan, I needed to use every aspect of the workday to highlight my numerous skills. Since this was a fun event, focusing on my creativity seemed to be the best idea. I wasn’t about to give someone a run of the mill Rubick’s cube or Starbucks gift card; I had big plans. The year prior, my Secret Santa had given me a bottle of wine, a scented candle, and a Peabo Bryson CD and deemed it the “Get your Groove on Kit”. This was exactly the sort of gift I would give so I stole the exact same idea, only per my new mantra, made it more professional. I spent well over 20 minutes photoshoping a label for The “Get Yo’ Groove on kit 2008 Deluxe Edition”, complete with a picture of a disco ball, a king sized bed, and the cover of the Dirty Dancing DVD. Since this was the deluxe edition, it also seemed behooving to put in a little something extra, so I added a can of Blade Panther body spray. Needless to say the recipient of this was mortified, but the crowed roared with laughter. I couldn’t help but be pleased with myself. It might not have been the most professional gift, but I was now leaning toward a healthy balance of professionalism, and being the center of attention. I had a few more celebratory glasses of wine, and then headed home to prepare for the masquerade ball.
I showed up for the party at 9 and was given 2 drink tickets for the bar. My first thought was “Thank God I drank a bottle of wine before I left the house”, my second was “who can I use to get more drink tickets?” The usual go to Mormon who worked with me was lost to the first round of layoffs, but there were still the recovering alcoholics, and as usual I took full advantage of them. I then proceeded to coax tickets from upper management , followed by scavenging the floor for fallen soldiers. When I’d collected about 11, I was ready to start enjoying myself. I mingled and exchanged witty banter just as I’d planned, and at this point I was by no means the drunkest person in the room. At around 9:30 our CEO made her speech from the stage. When she finished the dancing started and I noticed a couple of people discreetly dancing on the stage and thought , “Gosh that seems fun”. Then as if God was testing me, at 10:30 pm on the dot, Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer” began to play. Now I consider myself to be a man of strong self control, but there are some things I have no control over, and one of them is my body whenever Bon Jovi comes on. Without thinking, I immediately jumped up on stage and began to do what was later described to me in great detail as “some sort of rain dance”. This of course involved excessive head bobbing and air guitar playing. I forgot all about my professionalism and continued to rock out on stage long after Jon Bon Jovi had finished singing, and left only to get drinks. I stayed on that stage for 2 hours, but when it became crowded and trendy, I decided to make my exit.
I managed to find my roommate, my old manager, and some coworkers from my previous position. They were dancing just as hard as I was and It seemed like a good place to call it a night. We continued binge drinking and dancing until the lights came on at 1:30 and we were asked to leave.
When I got to work on Monday I’d forgotten all about my professionalism, and my only concern was finding someone who’d been drunker than myself to start gossip about, thus taking any negative attention off of me. There was nobody. I tried to keep a low profile until things blew over, and took a corner seat during our staff meeting. Things were going smoothly and the meeting was almost over when the President said in his Swedish accent, “And I didn’t know we had our own Bon Jovi.” After only 2 full weeks at my new job, I’d blown any shot at advancing my career, and am basically a huge joke. Phenomenal.